Reflections
by thoughtless dreamer
Summary: Visits to those old, special places do tend to bring back memories, both good and bad.


Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, but I am an obsessive fangirl (and proud of it!)

Jessie: So yeah… I was in a calm mood, and decided to write something… different.

Joh: Hmm?

Jessie: Yep! I tried a different style I like to write in occasionally. Although… I've never posted something like this before.

Joh: **Wide eyes** Ooh, my nee-san tried something different!

Jessie: Hope ya'll enjoy!

J twins: **Huggles**

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A soft breeze rustled through the leaves of the tree on the hill, accompanied by the soft singing from the two or three birds taking rest in its branches. Upon further inspection, one would realize some of the old tree was charred, one of the few reminders of a night that was filled with flames.

_A young boy of seven sat peacefully under the tree providing him shade on a bright, sunny day as he read a book. He clutched it tightly in his grasp while he read, afraid the slightest bit of harm might come to the text. It was one of the few, precious memories a man who'd left home years before had left behind in his study. His blonde bangs fell into his face as his head fell forward. His golden orbs closed, and though the boy nodded off to sleep, his tight grip on the book never lessened for a second._

_Eventually, a woman appeared from the back door of a house not at all far from the tree. She came outside with a basket of laundry to hand on the clothesline connected to a branch on that same tree. After setting the basket down in the green grass, her wandering eyes fell upon a foot sticking out from the other side of the tree. Curious, she walked around to the other side on the tree. A smile graced her face as she discovered her eldest son sleeping against the tree, a book resting on his lap._

The birds quieted as their song was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching their place of rest. Golden eyes identical to those of the seven-year old child briefly gazed up at the tree, watching for any movement from the birds, whom at this point had fallen completely silent. Unlike any other time –where he would never allow himself to be caught off-guard– the blonde teenager seemed to be completely at ease. This was the one place he could truly relax, and feel the closest to home.

At the thought of "home," his eyes moved from the tree to the pile of rubble on the ground not far from the tree. The boy stared at the remnants of a home he had once known.

_Flames leapt from every inch of the house. The air was thick with smoke that spiraled upwards. It was a frighteningly beautiful sight, but one that tore painfully at the hearts of the witnesses, especially the child of ten with a torch in his hand. But he would never let his pain show; he couldn't. For the sake of his younger brother, standing not three steps away from him –not to mention in his awkward, weakened condition– he had to be the strong one. His eyes were calm and uncaring, staring unblinkingly into the inferno that engulfed the place he had called home as long as he could remember. He held back the tears of sorrow that stung his eyes, and gulped back a quiet sob. _

_Finally, he tossed the torch in the direction of the flames, and simply turned his back, slowly walking in the opposite direction. There was a rumble that started off low, before turning into a deafening crack as the building suddenly caved into itself. Its weakened structure was finally unable to hold itself up any more, and it collapsed. The fire spread across the grass, and flames licked at the tree. The child blocked all of these frightful images from processing fully, and tore his eyes away from the burning wreckage that had been, up until now, his home._

But all was calm now, years later. Truth be told, it was hard even for the boy who had started the fire to believe it had ever been more than a horrid nightmare. But the debris in front of him and the tree –which was darkened where it had been burnt– proved that the dreadful event had indeed taken place.

The short teen sighed deeply as he reflected upon the memories he constantly tried to repress whenever he was anywhere else. But here… it was okay to think about it here. His eyes fell upon a small grave under the tree, and he started walking toward it. After all, this was the reason he'd come back to Risembool –his hometown… or rather where he'd grown up– in the first place.

His shadow fell across the grave, his eyes scanning over the engraving that announced Trisha Elric lay here at rest. He opened his mouth, but hesitated, and closed it once more, sighing deeply. He managed to smile a little.

"Hey, Mom," he murmured, his eyes downcast, currently averted from the headstone while he gathered up the courage to speak once again. His automail arm casually swung forward, and metal fingers unclenched as he lightly tossed a bouquet of lilies in front of the smooth stone. He finally took a seat by the grave, sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap, his fingers loosely intertwined with each other.

"It's… been a while since I last visited," the teen voiced his thoughts quietly. There was a comfortable silence, and the quiet teen didn't interrupt it, preferring to lean back on his hands and gaze unseeingly at the stone.

"I've been taking care of Al…" he murmured. His thoughts trailed off to his little brother, which, in turn, reminded him of the day he'd lost his arm, leg, and very nearly Alphonse himself in their desperate attempt to revive their mother. He felt a sudden, sharp pang in his stomach as he wondered how Trisha would react if she were able to see what he'd grown up to be. A bitter smile formed on his lips.

"I'll bet you're really disappointed in me… Your son's a dog of the military," the blonde whispered hatefully, his voice heavy with self-loathing. He looked up to the cloudless sky.

"It's not fair… We lost so much more than we thought we possibly could. And just because we wanted you back with us. Sometimes I think the whole world's against us," he could feel his anger quickly rising.

"And when I think back… I can only think of one person to blame for everything that's happened. That_ man_ I'm _supposed_ to call "_Father_," he spat out the last word as if it had it a bad taste.

"But _honestly;_ how was he a _father_ at all? He never took care of us or helped raise us. He was never really a _father_ to either Al or me. Fathers are supposed to be an active part of a family; they're _supposed_ to be the ones in charge of the _whole_ family. Yes, they need to take care of their wives, but they need to take responsibility for their _children_ as well! Other than being our real parent, he _never_ did anything father-like at all! He was just a husband!" the teen seethed.

When he suddenly remembered that he did not want to loose his temper in front of his mother, he closed his eyes and he forced himself to take a few deep, slow calming breaths.

Eventually, a weak smile suddenly overcame his angry expression, and he opened his eyes to look back at the grave.

"…I know you'd be chiding me for blaming him. You'd be telling me how it wasn't _his_ fault, and defending him, saying this was just how it was all meant to be," he said knowingly. His eyes visibly saddened.

"You were _always_ defending him. Right to the end," he muttered.

"But I think my logic defends _my_ theory of blaming it all on him. I mean, if Dad hadn't ever left, then you wouldn't have gotten sick and died. And since we had you Al and I wouldn't have tried to bring you back to life. And if the transmutation hadn't ever taken place I wouldn't have lost an arm and leg while Al wouldn't have lost his entire body. Finally, because we wouldn't have lost _anything_, I wouldn't have been forced to join the freakin' military to find the means to regain our normal bodies," he finished his explanation, and sat up, crossing his arms thoughtfully.

"But most importantly of all… you wouldn't have died." He paused, and he blurted out his next words without thinking, which, in turn, were completely heartfelt.

"…I wish you weren't dead," he finished, embarrassed to hear his voice crack; it was more full of emotion than he had expected. He coughed, and looked away as he felt the familiar tears pricking his eyes painfully. He couldn't cry; he wouldn't… Even though he felt so safe here, where he was as close to his mother as he could possibly get.

He didn't know how long he sat there, holding back the tears that threatened to fall, but it was long enough for the clouds to roll in, and cast shadows across the area. He looked up with damp, pained eyes when the ominous rumble of thunder rolled softly across the land sounded. He heard the pitter-patter of rain before he felt it dampening his red coat.

A small, bittersweet smile played on his lips as he closed his burning eyes, and tilted his face to the sky. The feel of the cool droplets against his warm face was refreshing. The rain deepened slightly, but it never became anything more than a drizzle.

His golden bangs were soon plastered to his forehead, and water trickled down his face. The alchemist licked his lips, tasting a mix of fresh and salty liquid.

_Was the sky crying? _

_Two brothers walked toward their home together, returning from their "sister's" residence. They were bathed in the warm glow of the sunset but felt strangely cold and empty non-the-less, as they were bearing the terrible news of the deaths of her parents. The noise of a door sounded in the distance that remained between them and the building they were headed toward, and they paused, looking up from their feet to see their mother walking out of the house with a basket. As though she sensed their gazes lingering upon her, she looked up and spotted her two boys. She smiled and waved at them laughing pleasantly. _

_The older sibling suddenly broke into a run, charging towards the woman, his brother right on his heels. Her expression turned from one of happiness to one of concern when she realized he was on the verge of tears, and she opened her arms to embrace the blonde boy when he threw his arms around her waist, hugging her desperately. The younger one soon joined him in clinging to her as tightly as he could. The mother hushed them gently, whispering words of comfort in a loving attempt to quell their sobs. Seemingly endless tears trickled from golden eyes as well as amber ones. They stood there for what felt like an eternity._

Edward Elric shook his head slightly, quickly repressing the memory. He was young then. He could cry.

But things were different now. He was older. He was the youngest State Alchemist; the "child prodigy." So many things were expected of him; one being he needed to be strong. Strong for himself, strong for Alphonse, and strong for the people he had pledged to protect.

He couldn't show weakness anymore.

And so, it was impossible that he was crying.

'_It hurts…'_

Of course it was the sky… it _had_ to be the sky that was crying.

So, he concluded, the sky was crying the tears that he could not.

The world was mourning with him.

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Jessie: …

Joh: **Tears** Poor Ed…

Jessie: Yeah. That ended on a… sad note. I didn't really ever know where I was going with this fic. I just… wrote.

Joh: That was like, your first non-yaoi fic.

Jessie: **Blinks and laughs** You know, you're right!

Joh: **Glomps **Wo ai ni, Nee-san.

Jessie: Aishiteru, Imouto.

(Hope you enjoyed my attempt at writing in a new style as much as I enjoyed writing it which was, in fact, a lot!. Please review and tell me what you thought. …I love you all dearly.)


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